


Two Knots

by AloneShadow



Series: Knots [4]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Caring Steve, Friendship, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Necktie, Not Betaed, One Shot, Post-Avengers (2012), Protective Tony Stark, Short & Sweet, Slight bromance if you stare into it, They both need a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart, caring Tony, knots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:15:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23480818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AloneShadow/pseuds/AloneShadow
Summary: In which Tony realizes that Steve cares about everyone but himself- and that they are not so different from each other, after all.
Series: Knots [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1384402
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	1. Knot 1

**Author's Note:**

> Cleaning my pc, I found this little fic I completely forgot about. I just needed some soft feels...  
> Hope you'll enjoy.

Tony has always been aware of his role as a consultant in the Avengers- hard to forget with Fury constantly reminding him that, since he didn’t want to work for him, he wasn’t considered one of _them_. And that was totally fine. Fury could keep his secrets and his rules- way too many rules for Tony’s tastes, anyway…

It was different for the others: Clint and Natasha were part of the program before Tony was even told about it, and as soon as Steve Rogers was found and defrosted, he automatically joined the gang. As their _leader_ , just like that. And Tony was fine with that too. Kinda. 

It’s not like Tony never _considered_ the idea of becoming an Avenger… The problem was Fury electing himself as the only one allowed to have secrets, and Tony _was not_ fine with that.  
Natasha understood his reasons, saying he wasn’t the only one having doubts about Fury, but insisted saying that the man was trustworthy. 

When Tony asked her who else didn’t trust Fury, he was surprised to hear the name Steve Rogers. 

She suggested him talking to Steve about it, but Tony already knew he wasn't going to, since the Captain was part of the problem. How everyone wanted to trust Steve simply based on him being _Captain America_ \- it was almost scary. 

Tony knew it was stupid to think that way. He knew Rogers wasn’t an evil spy plotting to kill them all- still, a part of his mind would occasionally space-out into a _what if?_ kind of nightmare.  
Considering himself an expert about finding flaws in everything and everyone, not finding the answer he wanted about Steve it quickly got on Tony’s nerves. Result? Steve was obviously too good to be trusted. Tony would have always said that with a straight face. Tried to, at least.

“Are you sure you’re not jealous of him?” Natasha told him one day. 

“Jealous? Me?” Tony scoffed. “What should I be jealous about? The powers he got after a lucky shot?” 

“Or about the fact that he’s just being himself?” she asked back. “You could give him another chance, considering he’s still adjusting.” 

“That excuse will expire, eventually.” 

“It’s been less than a year since he woke up. And he had to help us against an alien invasion just a few months ago.” 

“Guess his dive into the ocean wasn’t worth it in the end.” He commented. That that was a low blow, and, to make him feel worse, Natasha gave him that look of her, standing for _I’m fine with your attitude, but don’t overdo it_. 

“You should try talk to him.” She insisted. 

“I did.” He said, trying to ignore the fact that he has spoken to the Captain maybe three times after the battle of New York.

“I mean a normal conversation.” 

“Those were normal conversations.” 

“No, _he_ tried to have one. You simply ignore him most of the time, and if you don’t, you interrogate him.” 

“He’s the one that-“ Tony started, but then just looked away, not in the mood to start a fight. 

“I’m just saying that the last thing he need is having his own team making him feel an outsider.” She said zipping up her black jacket. 

“Well, I’m not officially part of the team, so I'm good,” Tony commented, maybe sounding sadder that he intended, because her expression softened, making him look down again. 

“So you keep coming back here only because Fury ask you to?” she said with a slight smile before leaving. 

Tony didn’t answer, but he was sure she knew already. He was there, at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarter, to check few of their prototypes- still, as a guest...

An alarm made Tony blink away from his thoughts, standing up in a second, looking outside Fury’s office where he was waiting for him. Walking in the corridor, he heard voices from downstairs, and leaning on the banister he saw people running through the atrium, on the first floor. “Jarvis, what’s going on?” he murmured pressing a button on the side of the sunglasses he put on his nose. 

“A S.H.I.E.L.D. vehicle is arriving at the base,” the AI informed, and after a few seconds added, “Injures seems to be onboard.” 

Tony said nothing, staring until he saw members of the medical team crossing the hall pushing a few stretchers. 

A moment later, he was entering the hangar S.H.I.E.L.D. used as their airport, where the plane has just landed: most of the people were busy helping the injured back inside. When most of the crowd was gone, he saw Steve Rogers jumping inside the plane to help the last agent down before the man was quickly taken away on a stretcher.

“Busy day?” Tony said slowly approaching. 

Steve was still inside the plane, breathing hard, hands on his knees and head down. “That wasn’t-“ when he looked up, he stopped and his face changed in a second. “Stark.” He said, hard to tell if it was a question or just a salute.

Tony hated how quickly the soldier switched from _normal, tired human being_ to _I don’t know what being tired means_. “Yup, just me. Fury’s busy.”

“What are you doing here?” Steve asked trying to stand straight, giving up after making a strange face. 

“Emotional support?” he shrugged trying not to stare at cuts and dirt all over his uniform- was that blood on his neck? The helmet was also gone.

“I don’t have time for you now…” 

“Wow. Ok. Sorry, I didn’t know you were busy showing off your-!” Tony watched him hop down the plane but, as he did, the soldier crashed against him, making both fall on the ground. “What- are you doing?!” Tony tried to push him off, wondering if the Captain was actually trying to kill him. 

“Sorry,” Steve murmured, letting out a pained groan. 

Tony didn't miss it. “You ok?” 

Steve moved a bit, just to groan again and just lay on top of him. 

“Ugh- God, you’re heavier than you look…” Tony huffed. Then, he frowned and looked down, considering if it was time to panic. “Is that my blood?” 

“No… That’s mine.” 

“You’re bleeding? Why are you bleeding?” Tony managed to push him aside and finally saw the gunshot wound on his side. “Hey, we need help here!” he yelled at the people still running around in the hangar, but no one seemed to hear, too busy taking care of the others. “HEY!” 

“I’m fine,” Steve said slowly trying to sit up, but only managed to lay on his good side. 

“You got shot, that’s not what I would define as _being fine_.” Tony said grabbing and wearing back the glasses that flew away in the fall, “Jarvis, are Romanoff or Burton in the building?” 

“Burton is currently available.” The answer arrived almost instantly.

“Tell him Steve is injured and needs help… And that they need to hire more people in their medical team,” Tony said jumping inside the plane, looking for the emergency kit that he found under the seats. Checking inside, he only found some bandages. He grabbed those and ran back to the Captain that was trying to stand again, pressing a hand over the wound, blood flowing through his fingers. “Lay down. Maybe I can-“ 

“I just need- to reach the infirmary,” he said sitting up, but that cost him another pained groan. 

“Clint will be here in a second, just lay down,” Tony insisted, kneeling next to him just in time to hold Steve by the straps on his uniform, saving him from hitting hard on the concrete as he fainted. “Oh, come on…” he sighed removing his jacket and using it as a pillow under Steve’s head. 

“Where’s Bruce when you need him?” Tony murmured to himself while unfolding Steve’s vest and pulling the zip down, pretending that it didn’t feel incredibly awkward and weird. Opening it, he took a deep breath while scanning the wound. “Jarv, how bad is it?” 

“No internal bleeding. No organs has been damaged from the shot.” 

“Good,” Tony breathed out and put the glasses away as he took the bandages and started wrapping it around Steve’s torso. “I’m not a damn medic…” he murmured trying to ignore the blood getting on his hands and trousers. “How did they miss this? And why it’s taking them so long?” Tony nervously looked up at the hangar again. “HEY! A hand here? That would be-“ he flinched as Steve suddenly woke up and grabbed his arm in a deadly grasp. “Hey- ow, it’s me. Just me. I’m patching you up, alright?” 

Steve’s eyes stayed cold and angry for another second, then he seemed to calm down and slowly let him go, head dropping on the jacket again. “Sorry.” He weakly said.

“You just- almost broke my arm. That’s ok,” Tony sighed, patting his pockets and looking around, “I have nothing to keep the bandage in place…” He said keeping a hand on it. “Hold on, maybe on the plane-“ 

“Just- make a knot,” Steve said, sounding weaker than ever. 

Tony looked down at him and nodded, “Right. It’s just temporary, ok? Help will be here soon,” his fingers kept slipping because of the blood, but he managed to make a knot after a few attempts. Closing it tight, he heard the soldier groan in pain again. “Sorry- sorry, my bad.” 

“Ugh- it’s alright…” Steve breathed out, closing his eyes for a moment. 

Tony started counting the seconds while kneeling next to him. He lost count when he noticed his bloodied hands were shaking. 

“…you ok?” 

He blinked and saw Steve staring at him. He quickly pull himself together. “Yeah. Patching up gunshot wounds- as usual.” Tony tried to put on his best sarcastic smile, but failed miserably, so he just looked away, at the hangar, where he finally saw Clint running towards them with few other people. “Clint’s here. They’ll take care of you.” 

“Hey- Tony?” Steve called and the other looked back at him. “Thank you.” 

“Sure. No problem.” Tony nodded, doing all he could to not met his eyes.

“What happened? Did you tried to kill him?” Clint asked while the others moved to help the Captain. 

“Yes, I was _that_ bored.” Tony snorted watching them taking Steve away. “I doubt anyone would have noticed, anyway.” 

“They left him behind, didn’t they?” Clint sighed following his gaze. 

“You don’t seem surprised.” 

“I’m not, because Steve do this every time. Just because he heals fast, that doesn’t mean we can’t take care of him…” Clint shook his head and focused on him again. “You ok?” he asked, offering a hand. 

“Well, _I_ didn’t get shot today.” Tony sighed, accepting the help, standing up but feeling his legs strangely weak. 

“You need something to change?” Clint said staring at the blood on his suit. 

“I’m good… Should have something in the car.” 

“Alright. I’ll go check on Steve. The bathroom is on the right, third corridor, if you need to throw up.” 

“Thanks.” Tony nodded watching him running away. Taking a deep breath, he looked down at himself, at Steve’s blood all over his shirt. It took him a moment to grab his jacket from the ground, ignoring his shaky hands, and slowly walk back inside the building.


	2. Cafe Knot

_Shit-!_ ” Tony gasped as he dropped the hand-drill on the floor while jumping back, waving his hands up and down. 

“Can I provide assistance, sir?” JARVIS asked, voice as calm as usual. 

“Should’ve put you into a suit and make _you_ pick that stupid thing up,” he hissed pushing the button to turn off the flame gun on the table. 

“I remember that idea being considered, and I quote, _very creepy_.” 

“Who said that?” 

“Miss Potts, sir.” 

Tony sighed: both his hands were shaking, the palms burned and turning red. Nothing severe, but stretching his fingers was painful. He left the laboratory and walked downstairs, in the bar, sighing in relief as he immerged both hands under the cold water of the faucet. 

_So stupid,_ he nervously told himself, not used to such stupid mistakes. He could focus on five works at the time every day without distracting, or accidentally killing himself, but, apparently, what happened a few days before hit him deeper than he thought… As if watching Steve Rogers bleeding on the floor was _that_ scary. As if having half of their clothes covered with Steve Rogers’ blood would make anyone lose their sleep, or wake up in the middle of the night smelling blood- or distract them while using a flame gun, forgetting it next to the drill.

Tony sighed and turned the water off, carefully wrapping his hands into a wet towel. 

No one called to tell him if Steve was ok, not even Clint, and, all considered, maybe that was a good thing. 

_They all probably brushed Steve’s wounds off as nothing happened,_ Tony thought, but still… Having a bloodied and weak Steve as last memory of the Captain, Tony couldn’t shake the bad feeling off. 

“Hey Jarv, any message from Clint?” He asked, checking the charcoal suit he was wearing didn’t get wet. He have been lucky not burning _that_ too…

“No, sir. Should I make a call?” 

“No, it’s fine.” He murmured throwing the towel on the counter and walking back into the laboratory, blowing air on his hands. He then noticed a light blinking on one of the panels. “Who- ouch!” he gasped when trying to push the buttons. “J, who’s that?” 

“Captain Rogers is the hall, sir. He asked for a meeting.” Jarvis informed. 

Tony let out the breath he was holding without even realizing. “Is he ok? Wait- is he here?” 

“Yes. He is currently waiting downstairs.”

“Ok... Yeah, let him come up,” he nodded dropping on the chair, passing a hand over his eyes, gasping another “Ow!” while doing so. 

He waited to hear the elevator’s door opening and then pushed the chair forward, rolling and stopping at the lab’s entrance: Steve was looking around, wearing casual clothes for once. Tony took a deep breath, feeling strangely relieved to see him. “Lost your way back home, Captain?”

Steve turned and looked up at him. “Almost,” he said with a little smile. “Actually, I wanted to see you,” he added, climbing the stairs. 

“I’m honored,” Tony said pushing the chair backward, rolling closer to the desk again. “There’s a reason or you just miss me?”

Steve smiled patiently. “Just wanted to make sure you were alright, after what happened the other day.”

“Oh. Well, I’m not the one that got shot, from what I can recall. How’s the wound?” he asked, looking at where the gunshot wound was for a moment.

“It healed in a few hours,” Steve nodded. “I wanted to come see you sooner, but-”

“See me? Why?” 

“You looked- kind of shocked?” 

_That’s an understatement_ , Tony sighed to himself. "Despite what people may say about me, you should know that being covered in blood- especially someone else's, isn’t one of my kinks.” 

Steve frowned for a moment, nodding hesitantly. “I’m sorry about that.” He said with a strangely serious tone. 

“I didn’t mean- I’m not trying to make you feel guilty because you got shot,” Tony quickly said. “It’s just… You know, fighting wearing an armor protects you from those kinds of things.” 

“From the reality of the fight?” 

_Ouch_. Tony wanted to argue, but there was no sarcasm nor judgment in Steve’s voice… He looked and sounded like he wished he could wear an armor too. Tony looked down at his burned hands: he could still remember the feeling of blood on them, the smell… Wearing the suit didn’t make him immortal, but- maybe it made him forget a few details.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-“ 

“No, you’re right.” Tony stopped him. “That’s why I’ve created the suit in the first place…” _To protect myself. To have a safe place in this scary, scary world…_

“You want to talk about it?” 

Tony looked at him, wondering if he heard that wrong, but Steve was there, offering a helping hand... And Tony almost accepted it. “Maybe another time. I…” he checked the hour on one of the screens, “I have a meeting on the other side of the city in twenty minutes.” 

“Twenty minutes? Are you sure you’re gonna make it?” 

“Of course not, but I’m a special guest. I have to be late.” 

Steve smiled a bit and didn’t insist. Instead, he looked at the pieces of the Iron Man suit on the desk. “That's why you're keeping yourself busy?” 

“I was trying to. Where’s that stupid thing…?” Tony murmured bending over to check on the floor. 

Steve watched him disappear behind the desk and sighed. “Then, I guess I-“ he was suddenly interrupted by a sudden and angry “SHIT!” as Tony hit the desk- probably with his head. “You ok?” 

“Yeah…” 

Steve tilted his head a bit. “What was that for?” 

“My charm?” Tony snorted holding on the chair to push himself off the floor, flinching again and letting out an even angrier, “SON OF A-“ 

“Tony, what’s wrong?” Steve asked, moving closer. 

“Just- take that thing for me, would you?” He sighed stepping aside while waving a hand at the floor. 

Unsure, Steve saw the hand-drill on the floor and took it. Turning to him, he noticed the burns. “Tony, your hands- what happened?” 

“Nothing. I just forgot how that works for a sec.” He snorted gesturing at flame-gun.

Steve looked at it and then sighed, giving him a nervous glare. 

“It’s not like I did it on purpose.” Tony tried to defend himself. 

Steve just shook his head and placed the drill on the desk before saying, “Let me see your hands.” 

“It’s not that bad.” 

“You couldn’t even hold the chair.” 

“I almost did.” 

“Yeah, _almost_. Come on, let me see.” 

Tony looked away but eventually obeyed. 

Steve grabbed his wrist and turned the hand, checking the burned palm. “The other hand’s the same?” 

“Y-yeah.” Tony couldn’t hide his surprise: Steve’s touch was incredibly gentle. Still, he flinched when he slowly tried to bend his fingers. 

“Water won't do much on these. Don't you have a cream or something...?” Steve asked.

“No idea. Jarvis?” 

“In the kitchen. The shelf next to the fridge, fourth drawer.” The AI promptly answered. 

“He knows your house better than you?” Steve sighed. 

“He still doesn’t know where my stash of donuts is.” 

“I do.” Jarvis blankly said. 

Tony groaned and moved his hand a bit. “Examination’s over?” 

Steve noticed he was still holding his hand, so he let him go. 

_Did I almost make Captain America blush?_ Tony grinned and shook his head, heading to the kitchen. “Anyway, everything’s fine. Sorry that you wasted time getting all the way here to see me.” He said while checking in the drawer. 

"It wasn't a problem. I'll be off duty for a few days, so...” 

“Fury put you on the bench already?” 

“More like he kicked me out of the team.” 

Tony stopped and turned around. 

Steve was looking out the window, but when their eyes met, he grinned at his serious expression, “I still work with him. He just wants me to take a few days off between missions.” 

_Is this what Natasha meant when she said he’s still adjusting?_ Tony wondered. He just nodded, going back on checking the drawer where he finally found the cream. “You do tend to overdo pretty often.” 

Steve took a deep breath, “Yeah, that’s what Clint says.”

“If we agree on something, it must be true.” Tony scoffed carefully spreading some cream on a hand with a finger, and then started doing the same thing on the other, hating having to rub on the skin, but hating even more keeping that oily sensation on his hands. Briefly looking up, he found the other staring at him a little grin on his face. “Glad my suffering is making your day better, Cap.” 

“I thought you said it wasn’t that bad?” 

“ _It is not_. Thank you.” Tony snorted checking the clock again. As he watched Steve smile and look outside again, Tony surprised himself wondering if he could skip the event scheduled for the evening and offer the Captain to stay there for dinner. They could invite Nat and Clint too. Maybe Bruce was still in town as well… 

“Ow-!” Tony flinched back to reality as he rubbed his hands too much now that they were dry again- and smelling of honey. “I’m gonna melt that stupid drill…” he murmured moving to the couch to grab his tie- but stopped just in time. Staring at it, he sighed, considering the alternatives. 

“You… Need a hand with that before I leave?” 

“Rogers, if you dare to laugh…” 

“I just wanted to help, but if you can do it...” 

Tony turned around, finding him waiting with a calm expression on his face. “Just- don’t tell anyone.” He sighed in defeat. 

Steve shook his head and walked next to him, grabbing the purple tie, staring at it for a moment. 

Tony studied him. “You know how to tie a tie, do you?”

“I do," Steve said. He started straightening the collar of his shirt before moving the tie around his neck. "I was just thinking about which knot to use.”

“Really?” 

“I only know a few.” He said with an apologetic smile. 

_Well, now I'm impressed_ , Tony thought. Still, it was weird being so close to each other… Steve was just helping, and yet Tony couldn’t stop thinking those hands could snap his neck in a second… 

“How’s your hands?” Steve asked.

“They’ll heal,” Tony answered without thinking, busy staring at Steve’s hands working the tie so elegantly, and because of that, he noticed them stopping for a second. “Sounds familiar?” Tony laughed a bit, realizing what he said. "You're not the only one using that excuse."

“In my case is… It’s more like a habit than an excuse.” Steve said finishing the knot, taking a step back.

“You can always break a habit," Tony said looking up at him. "I mean, I stopped drinking."

Steve studied him skeptically. "I saw you drinking more than once?" 

“Yes, but I used to drink _way_ more a few years ago." He nodded. "The point is, if you get shot, please tell someone? Especially Clint. He hates secrets.” Tony continued, moving a hand to fix the tie by instinct, letting out another "Ow!" 

“I’ll try to keep that in mind,” Steve said with a patient smile. "Have fun at the meeting. And be careful with those burns." He added, nodding as a salute before leaving. 

Tony watched him disappear into the elevator and let out a long breath. “Well... That happened,” he sighed leaning against the couch. Fighting the urge to touch the tie, he asked, “Jarvis, what type of knot is this one?” barely poking at it with a finger. 

After a moment, the AI answered, “That is known as a Cafe Knot, sir.” 

END


End file.
